


The American Dream

by Angelily_Viventis



Series: Alan Rickman x Plus-size reader [33]
Category: Alan Rickman - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Chicago (City), Domestic Fluff, Engagement, Exploration, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Marriage Proposal, Older Man/Younger Woman, Panic Attacks, Paparazzi, Size Difference, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 12:41:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24849946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelily_Viventis/pseuds/Angelily_Viventis
Summary: It's her first time exploring America with Alan. Will it be an American dream come true?
Relationships: Alan Rickman/Original Female Character(s), Alan Rickman/Reader
Series: Alan Rickman x Plus-size reader [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729954
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	The American Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: these are individual one-shots and function as stand-alone chapters. None of the work in these series follow on each other unless indicated as "Parts".

"Why does it have to be Chicago?" (Y/N) whines as she enters Alan's office in his West London flat.

"Good, I take it you got my text," he says dismissively and his head ducks down to finish scribbling on the paper he was busy with before she walked in.

She turns her phone's screen towards him, "Yeah, I did. I mean, I'm excited that I'll be going to America with you, but I was kind of hoping it would be somewhere like New York City, you know..." she pouts sadly.

His head lifts up and his heart aches at seeing her unhappiness. He holds his arm out to her and silently indicates her to come closer to him. He pats his knee and she reluctantly sits down on it, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Darling, I can't help for the location. It's where the press interviews will take place, there's nothing I can do about it, I'm sorry..." he places a kiss on her cheek.

"Besides, if I were to take you to New York I would make sure we're staying for at least a week so that I can make sure to properly show you the city - not all the tourist attractions that you read about on your social media," he gives her a knowing look and his eyebrow raises in its usual fashion.

"Okay," she breathes.

"I've never been to Chicago myself, so we will get to explore and experience the city together," he offers softly while staring into her calculating eyes.

"What are you working on anyway?" She changes the subject and indicates towards the desk with all his papers.

"I was just... doodling the set I have in mind for the new film I'm directing. I can't seem to get the dimensions right, though. Still working on that..."

"Well, here, it's because you don't have any highlighting down this section," she notes. "Do you mind?" She asks as she picks up the white pencil.

"No, of course - go ahead," he watches intently as her delicate fingers dance across his sketch and highlight the lighter areas as she shifts on his lap.

"I think that should do it."

"Well, would you look at that..." He says amazed. "I might just consider hiring you as my illustration consultant for future projects," he jokes playfully.

"In your dreams, old man. You won't be able to afford me," she winks at him and places a kiss on his lips, drawing his bottom lip out between her teeth.

He growls lustful and places his large hand on her buttocks giving it a squeeze.

"We need to stop right now or I won't be able to say no to you, Alan Rickman," she breathes close to his face.

"I'm not stopping you," he lets go of her behind.

She gets off his lap and stands next to his desk, straightening her black palazzo pants out.

"Why don't you spend the night, hm? That way we can leave together in the morning."

"You know that's not gonna happen, so don't even suggest it," she warns playfully. "No, thank you, I'll spend the night at my place and you can pick me up in the morning."

"Fair enough," he smiles softly.

"Also, do you think we can skip staying at the hotel and rather just get a small Airbnb somewhere? Something inexpensive. I hate how your castmates always stumble into our room drunk as a skunk in the early mornings."

"Hm," he agrees. "Good idea. I'll arrange something, maybe a nice big Chicago loft somewhere downtown?"

"What? Do you listen? No - I said _inexpensive._ Somewhere where we can just get away from the actual city, somewhere quiet. You know what - let me just... I'll take care of it," she offers sweetly and her fingers zoom over her touch screen already searching for the perfect place.

"Also," she starts.

"There's more?" He asks incredulously and raises his brow at her.

"Alsooo," she starts again. "Let's not do the whole private driver thing, okay? Or Uber for that matter. We can take the bus and that way we don't attract too much attention to ourselves."

"You know the attention is going to be inevitable, dear. Why do you try to fight it?" He swirls around in his chair.

"I'm not trying to fight it - I don't mind the odd picture or autograph. I'm just trying to minimize it, the paps always stick their lenses through the car windows and it's not helping my anxiety. If we take the bus, no one will suspect we're on it," she shrugs.

He gets up off his chair and walks closer to her, wrapping his arms around her thick waist.

"Whatever we can do to lower your anxiety - I'm all on board for," he places a loving kiss on her forehead and she wraps her arms tightly around him.

"Are you ready, dear?" Alan's low voice calls the next morning from her bedroom doorway where he stands, arms folded across his chest.

(Y/N) huffs as she pushes down hard on her carry-on suite case, finally closing the zipper.

"Ready," she puffs happily and stands up straight.

"Let me take that," he walks forward and takes the handle of the small bag, lifting it off the bed.

"Thank you, darling," she places a peck on his lips.

"Just an FYI, I started my period this morning, so please excuse me if I'm emotional on the trip," she smiles shyly.

"Duly noted," he nods and leads her by the small of her back to their awaiting car.

After a few weather-related delays and a change of flight, they finally made it onboard the first-class section of the plane.

"Window seat?" He offers.

"Yes, sure. Thanks, darling," she settles down in the spacious seat and a flight attendant brings them each a glass of champagne with a strawberry inside.

"Do you think it will snow?" She asks him across the aisle as she bites into the sweet fruit.

Alan bends down to take his iPad and papers out of his brown leather sling bag, placing them on the tray, "Ehhh, I think the weather report said that it snowed during the week, so we might see snow but it will be slush on the side of the road."

"Hm," she looks out of the window. "I'd love to see snow."

The aircraft soon starts moving forward and she instinctively grabs hold of his thigh as they start to lift off. She shuts her eyes tightly and whispers a prayer as her stomach knots from the movement.

Alan places his hand over hers and strokes her knuckles with his thumb.

"Oh, wow. This is so exciting," she squeals as they stand in front of the red wooden door in The Heart of Chicago, waiting for Alan to unlock the keypad.

"It's not one of the best neighbourhoods..." He turns his head and says to her as he fingers in the code.

"Oh, pish posh. This is nice and quiet and I saw a bus stop located right at the end of this street," she clutches her hands inside her coat pockets to warm them from the cold.

At last, they enter through the door into a quant open-plan bachelor pad.

"It's adorable!" She moves past him and does a quick walk through the apartment.

"It's small," he notes under his breath.

"What are you talking about? It's the perfect size for just two people. See, they have a comfortable double bed, a closet, the kitchen area is through there, here's a sitting area and a telly that we can see from the bed, and best of all: the tub as water jets in it," she wriggles her eyebrows excitedly.

"It's no fun if we're not in the tub together," he jokes and pulls her closer by the waist.

"I want none of that talk on this trip. Don't even try something, Al," she warns sternly. "I'm already horny as fuck and I'll have to reel in all my will power not to jump your bones as we sleep together this weekend," she runs her fingers along his jaw.

"Fine," he breathes disappointedly while resting his forehead against hers. "I can't wait for the day that you're mine so that I can properly claim you as my own."

"Hmm... You drive a good bargain, sir, but for now, I would like to go take a shower and wash the airplane germs off me."

She takes her small carry-on into the bathroom and Alan can hear the shower turning on behind the closed doors. He decides to order them Chinese takeout from the takeaway menus on the kitchen counter while she's busy.

He places their order of sweet sesame chicken, rice, and two cans of Coca-Cola. By the time the delivery guy rings the doorbell, (Y/N) makes her way out of the shower all fresh and clean - her hair hanging in wet strands above her shoulders.

"I love the smell of you and clean soap," he says intimately close as she nestles her warm body next to him on the sofa in front of the flat screen.

"You're making this very difficult for me, Alan," she groans and reaches for her plate of food on the coffee table.

He clears his throat with a smirk. He loves riling her up.

"On a side note, I arranged for a few groceries to be delivered later tonight."

The evening passes slowly as the couple continues eating and watching American movies.

"Alan, wake up," she whispers in the early hours of the next morning.

"Is something the matter?" He bolts upright and asks in a groggy tone.

"Yes, you're not awake yet. It's six-o-clock, we're burning daylight," she pulls the covers from his muscular body.

"Are you being serious right now?" Irritation lines his voice as he looks at his watch through squinted eyes.

"Yes, now stop arguing and get ready, please."

Thirty minutes later Alan stumbles out of the small bathroom with his toiletry bag under his arm and his towel thrown over his shoulder.

"Something smells delicious," he pecks her lips in passing.

"It's just bagels and cream cheese. Glad you're in a better mood."

"No one wants to be awakened at the break of dawn," he says half-serious as he slips his dark jeans and long sleeve plaid shirt on in the bedroom area.

"Are you sure you don't want to head out and explore while the interviews take place, love?" He asks as he holds her coat open for her by the door.

"It's going to take a good four hours..."

"No, I'm fine," she slips her arms in and he adjusts her collar in the back. "I don't want to get lost in an unknown city, or worse - kidnapped."

He scoffs, "No one is going to kidnap you."

"Either way, I'll hang out in the hotel until you're done and then we can start with the bucket list," she helps him into his own coat.

"And what, pray tell, is on the bucket list?"

"It's going to sound like a lot, but it's all very doable in a day's time. So, we have the Skydeck which I already bought tickets for; Cloud Gate; the Chicago Theatre district which I think you'd enjoy very much; the Navy Pier at North Avenue Beach; the Wooden Pavillion at Lincoln Park; and then we'll pick up some souvenirs at the end of the day," she counts the list on her fingers.

"Very ambitious. I hope you added some time in between to eat because I'm already starving!"

"Oh, my soul," she rolls her eyes. "You're always starving. Is there ever a time you're not thinking about food?"

"Only when I'm not thinking about you," he winks at her and holds the door open for her before locking it with the keypad.

"Alan!" She calls as she runs off and Alan immediately spins around in worry.

"(Y/N)?!" He hurriedly makes his way down the two steps after losing sight of her.

He rounds the wooden fence in panic and spots her crouched behind it looking at a patch of fresh pure white snow.

"Look! It must have snowed during the night. Isn't it beautiful?" She shrieks and tears start to fill her eyes.

He looks around after blowing out a breath of relief and notes the soft white blanket of snow covering the car roofs and parts of the sidewalk.

"Indeed, it's almost as beautiful as you," he helps her off the ground and wipes her tears that are threatening to fall.

A shiver runs through him and he pulls his jacket closer to his chest.

"No, I can't do this..."

"What?" She asks concerned.

"I'm going back inside. I hate the cold, I need to put on something thicker."

He walks back inside the small apartment, leaving (Y/N) to play in the snow. She rolls the wet crystals into a ball and slings it at the fence causing it to explode and sprinkle on the concrete.

Carefully, she steps onto the large snowy patch and her weight causes her shoes to sink a few centimeters.

"This feels amazing," she mumbles amazed under her breath as she starts kicking at the ice.

Alan rounds the corner of the wooden fence and stills in his tracks. He watches her intently as she takes her time feeling the snow between her fingers, her gloves long discarded by now. The snow glistens in the bright morning sun, reflecting into her eyes and causing a bright sparkle in them.

_Typical (Y/N) - always noticing and enjoying the little things in life._

BOOF! A ball of ice lands on Alan's chest and he looks up, shocked.

"What the hell was that for?" He asks offended.

"Sorry, love, I've always wanted to throw a snowball," she replies softly as she walks closer to him and wipes the snow off his snow jacket.

He gives her a small smile, "Come on, if we don't get going now I'll be late for the first interview."

They make their way to the nearest bus stop and onto the bus heading into downtown. After half an hour, they get off the bus and weave through the busy crowds and tall skyscrapers until they come to their planned destination.

"Oh, my... This is one massive building," she breathes awestruck as she stares up at the rectangular prism of bronze-tinted aluminum and bronze double-paned glass - The Langham Hotel.

They enter and she spins around mesmerized as she takes in the scene before her. Fine art meets architecture and the interior focuses on clean lines, quality materials, and precise detail - ceiling to floor windows, ten feet high ceilings, travertine stones, and artwork from more than 140 artists are showcased throughout the hotel.

"We'll be up in suite 401 if you wanted to join us," Alan rests his hand on her back once he returns from the front desk.

"No, it's okay. I know you like to prepare on your own. You go up and I'll wait down here until you're done."

"In that case, you're more than welcome to frequent the bar. The hotel has my credit card on file, order whatever you'd like," he pecks her on the lips before heading into the elevator.

"Good luck," she calls before the silver metal doors close.

She had a few coffees at the bar and walked around the hotel, exploring every nook and cranny of the gigantic building. Four hours later she finds herself seated in the foyer on a white canvas arm stool flipping through the latest issue of _Vogue._

The elevator doors ding, causing her to look up. A small crowd of young French businessmen dressed in grey pin-striped Armani suits, judging from the lapels, make their way out of the elevator before a worn-out Alan steps off and over to her.

"They look very handsome and professional," she notes disinterested as her head follows the group.

"Hm," he agrees, stepping next to her. "Sounds like they just closed a business deal and they're about to celebrate..."

"That's lovely,"

"...with hookers," he adds sarcastically.

"What? How do you know?" She asks aghast.

" _L'affaire est faite. Allons célébrer avec des filles de la rue,_ which translates as the deal is done, let's go celebrate with some girls from the street," he drawls with raised eyebrows.

"Hmmm, I love it when you speak French," she muses and links her arm into his.

"I thought you loved it when I kissed French," he winks devilishly at her.

"You wanna say that any louder? I'm not sure that reporter at the end of the street quite heard you," she hits his arm playfully as they make their way out of the hotel and onto the busy streets of the city.

"Where to first?" He asks in passing.

"Skydeck, of course!"

She drags him excitedly by the arm and makes sure to stop at multiple spots along the way to take photos. Sometime later they enter the 100-floor building. She leads him up four flights of stairs and into one of the elevators. At the topmost floor, the elevator dings and they get off, only to be met with a door from the penthouse.

"Hm, that's strange..." she mumbles as she looks around the area.

"Excuse me? May I help you? No guests are allowed up here," a buff security guard calls with his thick Chicago accent.

"Our apologies, Officer, but I presume we are lost," Alan looks over at (Y/N) who shrugs shyly.

The guard puffs and rolls his eyes in annoyance. "I take it you're looking for the Skydeck?"

They both nod.

"You're currently in the John Hancock Tower. The Skydeck is over at the Willis Tower - that's nineteen blocks away, back across the river. It's a good forty-one-minute walk from here."

Alan's head turns slowly in (Y/N)'s direction. With wide eyes, he looks aghast at her.

"Okay, thank you, officer," he calls out and leads her by her arm into the elevator.

"Nineteen blocks away?!" He barks inside the metal shaft. "How did we drift that far off the planned path?"

"I'm really sorry, Al," she says softly, regretful.

"I must've had the address wrong. I-I was sure it was here..." she swallows a lump in her throat.

She hates being called out and getting into trouble. She's not a child anymore, but this feeling always sucks - the feeling of _disappointment._

Alan pinches the bridge of his nose and with a puff, he rests his back against the cool metal wall.

He can see the self-doubt in her eyes and it kills him. He has been such a jerk-off to her just now. Heaven knows why - they've been exploring either way. And it's not like they're lost.

"It's alright, darling, a little miscalculation. I'm sorry for overreacting," he gives her a small smile.

He steps forward, enveloping her in his arms, and places a soft kiss on her forehead. He feels her arms wrap tighter around him.

"I think it's best then if we take an Uber."

"Al-," she interjects with her chin resting against his chest.

"(Y/N), stop worrying," he pulls her away to look at her worried face. "It's going to be a fifteen-minute ride. There's nothing to be worried about."

Alan proceeds to order the Uber on his phone and they make their way out of the elevator and out of the tower, waiting on the sidewalk for their transportation.

"Wait here," he instructs and lets go of her hand when the cr matching the Uber description pulls up to the curb.

He checks their surroundings sideways before walking up to the dark grey Toyota Camry with dark tinted windows.

"Who is it for?" he asks after he opens the back door and sticks his head in.

"Uber for Alan," the man replies.

Alan waves (Y/N) over and they both hop in, safely on their way to the Willis Tower.

"I was just listening to your interview over the radio," the driver says in hos thick Chicago accent while eyeing the couple through the rearview mirror.

"Oh? I didn't realise they had aired it already... " Alan states concerned, looking over at his girlfriend.

The last thing he wants to do is talk about work and risk upsetting (Y/N). She's already worried about the possibility of the media attention. For sure, there's probably a bunch of people who heard it and now know that Alan _et al_ are in Chicago.

"I guess this is where you get off, eh?" The driver states as they approach the curb where a small crowd of fans and tabloid reporters have gathered.

"Oh, no," (Y/N) breathes anxiously as she eyes the rowdy crowd. "How would they even have known where we are?!"

She looks over at Alan with a panicked expression.

"I-it's... probably not going to be okay, darling, I'm sorry," he squeezes her hand apologetically. "But we do need to get out or else we're trapped in this car forever. Slide over this way so we'll at least not get out in the midst of the crowd."

She breathes a nervous breath and as soon as Alan opens his side of the door the loud chatter of the disorderly crowd fills the car.

She grabs her sling bag and grabs hold of Alan's hand as they exit and 'round the car, heading toward the crowd. Immediately, over-eager fans start screaming Alan's name, holding out pens and posters for him to sign. Camera shutters go off by the second. The couple is squished between, what (Y/N) can count, thirty-five people all wanting Alan's autograph or picture.

_Alan, what are you doing for Christmas?_

_Alan, can you sign this, please? It's for my sick cousin._

_Alan, what's your favorite movie of all time?_

The tabloid press keeps shouting with tape recorders shoved close to the couple's faces as they try to make their way through the crowd that's ultimately blocking them from going anywhere.

(Y/N) feels like her lungs are closing in on themselves, her throat constricting as a lump starts to form, and she feels like crying as a few people in the crowd try to grab hold of their arms just to try and get a touch.

"Get away from here, clear the area!" A security guard of the building shouts as he nears the intertwined crowd and pushes his way through it, stretching his arms along the couple and clearing a path for them.

They make use of the opportunity and bolt their way into the glass building along with the guard.

"Alan," (Y/N) breathes as they round the first corner inside before she collapses onto the floor, crying.

"I-I ca-n't brea--," she clutches at her chest and heaves wide-eyed.

Alan lowers himself next to her on his knees and grabs hold of her two shoulders. It pains him to see her like this.

"Darling, look at me. It's over. It's all over," he says in his bass voice. 

"I'll get her some water," the guard offers and runs to the small coffee shop that the building has on the lower floor.

Tears sting her eyes as she tries to calm herself down through her hyperventilation.

Alan proceeds to help her with her grounding technique.

"Name five things you can see."

"I-I ca-n't," she heaves and sobs.

Alan notices the way her body is shaking and adjusts his grip on her shoulders.

"Five things you can see, love. You can do this."

"Ch-ha-nde-lier... m-y bag... y-your wa-tch... w-indows... pe-op-le..." she clutches at his shirt.

"Forget about the people for now - look at me," he hands her the cup of water the guard gave him and holds it up to her lips to take a sip.

"Breathe. Four things you can touch."

"T-the fl-oor... y-our sh-irt... y-you... t-the wa-ll..."

"Three things you can hear. Breathe."

"P-people... tra-affic... a-a cellphone..."

"Two things you can smell. Keep breathing."

She takes a deep breath to try and identify the surrounding smells.

"Coffee... your co-logne..."

"Very good. One thing you can taste?"

"I-I do-n't... I ca-n't..." her voice raises in slight panic again.

Alan leans forward and softly captures her lips in a kiss. He pulls away and rests his forehead against hers.

"You..." she smiles softly.

"Are you feeling any better?" He whispers softly.

She gives a slight nod and he retrieves back, giving her some space. She rests her head on her knees and blows out a long and strenuous breath. He helps her to her feet, taking out his handkerchief from his back pocket and gently wiping at her tears.

They make to walk off before the security asks concerned in passing,   
"She gonna be okay?"

"She'll be fine, thank you, Officer," Alan says lowly and slips the guard a crisp hundred.

The queue to the Skydeck was long and the wait relatively boring. At last, it was Alan and (Y/N)'s turn to have their sixty seconds on the ledge, and to say the view was breathtaking would be an understatement.

(Y/N) was first up while Alan took pictures of her sitting and standing on the glass balcony.

They asked one of the security guards to take a picture of the couple together since Alan absolutely despises selfies. (Y/N) took some steal shots of Alan as he stared out of the glass windows, brooding.

_Here? Rather not._

They took a brisk walk across a few blocks to Millennium Park where they sat at a park bench and enjoyed the view of _the Bean._ Even though it was crawling with tourists, (Y/N) still managed to get some creative shots with the minimum amount of people in the background.

"I'm craving some caffeine, how 'bout you?" He asks her as the icy wind blows through his silver hair.

"Ooh, yes! I'd love something warm in this weather."

He does a quick Google search on his phone, "Well, we're in luck. There's a Starbucks practically on every corner in this city."

They walk hand-in-hand until they reach a Starbucks already decked out in the seasonal decorations of greens, reds, and golds.

They enter and the aroma of fresh warm coffee encircles them. Christmas jingles can be heard over the speakers along with the chatter of every man, woman, and child trying to shield themselves inside against the harshly cold city.

They order their drinks and decide to sit at a table already occupied by a group of teenagers. Alan is betting that they don't even know who he is. Judging by the fact that their faces are hidden behind their electronic devices, playing mine craft, or whatever else the kids are into these days, they might not even notice that a British celebrity has joined them among the table.

"Might I add a detour to our so-called _bucket list_?" Alan asks as he munches on a tart cherry danish.

"Hm, of course! What did you have in mind?" (Y/N) sips on her warm peppermint hot cocoa.

"I would like to take you down to the Riverwalk, all the way down to Navy Pier. It's a bit of a walk, though - two hours - but since we have our packed sandwiches and fruit we can take a few stops and have lunch on the way there..."

She thinks for a minute then smiles, "Sounds lovely, yeah."

Neither of them was prepared for the cold wind they experienced walking right beside the river. They huddled close and made good timing, even with several stops for (Y/N) to take photos at. They had their turkey cream cheese sandwiches and bananas on the walk there and was rather disappointed to find the pier closed and abandoned since it's the start of winter in the States.

"My feet are killing me," she groans as they decide to leave the pier. 

"Mine too. Although, I suspect I lost feeling in them a good distance back due to the cold."

She guffaws.

"I think we should start heading into the direction of a restaurant pretty soon since the sun will set at around four-o'clock here," he suggests and leads her towards the inner city again.

"Oh, look! We can get our souvenirs here," she points at the multiple souvenir shops lining North Michigan Avenue.

After buying the required postcards and fridge magnets, they make their way to a small take-out restaurant and have an early dinner.

"Oh, Alan. Isn't the vibes here just so amazing?" Her heels click on the cement sidewalk as they leave the restaurant.

"Vibes?"

"Yeah, you know... All the people talking, walking; the way the sun sets and reflects off _the Bean;_ the kids just knowing exactly where to go and how to navigate the city; just... all the feels, you know?" She interlocks their arms together.

_Here?_

"Hm, I have to agree with you. It does feel very pleasant here," he answers before belching, causing (Y/N) to hit him on the arm playfully and giggle.

"Now, to find the bus back home before it gets too dark."

"I'm sure the bus stop is around here somewhere..." she scans their surroundings looking for the black canopy. "Why don't we head back to the hotel we were first at? It was close to the main station and then we can try and figure it out from there."

"Good idea - it says here that the busses from downtown don't go all the way out to our area anyway," he shows her the screen of his phone displaying the Google Maps transit system.

The couple walks towards the outer downtown area, having missed a couple of right turns. The skies above them have become pitch black and the wind has picked up between the sky risers.

"Didn't we just pass this building, love?" (Y/N) asks as she tightens her coat against her body, shielding her from the intrusive coldness.

She looks around them to make sure there are no suspicious-looking people in the vicinity. It's getting very dark and she's getting pretty scared.

"I-I don't know anymore," Alan stutters irritated. "This damn icon on the screen keeps moving in the wrong direction..." he grunts.

"Let me see that," she peers over his shoulder. "Okay, not to worry, I think it's about two more blocks that way."

They keep walking until (Y/N) stills in her tracks.

"I think I lost my glove..." she checks her souvenir shopping bags and her purse.

"You must be kidding... Just the one?"

"Yeah, I guess I took it off when I was putting the station into your phone, but I think I know where I dropped it."

"You wanna go back?!" He asks incredulously. He's tired and cold and just wants to find the goddamn bus station.

"Well, yes, what am I going to do with just one glove?"

"Fine, but if it's not there, I'll buy you a new pair because I'm not searching the entire city for one glove."

He takes her by the arm and they walk back the way they came, about one block. Their weary eyes scan the dimly lit sidewalks as they search. She does a fast trot as she notes several homeless people now lining the sides of the buildings, getting their accommodation ready for the night.

"Oh, it must be awful to sleep out in the cold like this every night..." she mumbles sadly.

"Huh? What'd you say?" Alan grumbles irritated as they come to a halt at an intersection.

"Nothing. Well, I guess this is as far back as we'll go... Nevermind the glove then, I'm sure one of these homeless people will need it more than I. They'll probably just pick it up."

Alan stills at her words and all irritation washes from his face and a small smile spreads across his features.

_She'll always take other people's needs into account before her own._

"Oh, look - isn't this the bus stop we got off this morning? We can just take the same bus back to our flat."

"And right on time, too," Alan points at the bus heading their way.

The pair make their way onto the quiet bus and Alan pays for both their trips before they take a seat at the far back.

(Y/N) is still amazed at the bright city lights as the night scene passes in the bus's window. She stares out with a small smile. _It's lovely._

Soon, the motion of the bus and the background noise of the engine lulls her to sleep and she rests her head on Alan's shoulder. His cold hand encases hers in search of warmth.

After a long and tiring bus ride, they finally make it to their small warm apartment. Forgetting about showering, the couple plops their shopping bags onto the coffee table for later and crawl their tired bodies into the cozy bed, snuggling up close together before sleep overcomes them.

"Since it's our last day, I was thinking we could use all the leftover food to make a bunch of sandwiches, and then we can give that and the rest of the bananas to the homeless people. We've seen so many of them downtown yesterday," she says from the tiny kitchen area as she starts buttering the slices of bread.

He walks up behind her, freshly showered, and brushes her hair out of the way before planting a kiss in the crook of her neck.

"You're a saint, I'm sure they'll appreciate that," he breathes.

He helps her clear out the fridge and packs each of the twelve sandwiches into individual zip lock bags before packing their own lunch into a separate bag. They make quick work of cleaning the apartment and discarding the trash outside before grabbing their own suitcases and locking up.

"I've arranged for our baggage to be stored at a storing facility in Bushwick. It's near the train station that we'll use at the end of the day to get back to the airport."

"Okay, great. Thank you, love," she reaches up to peck his cheek as they make their way to the bus stop again, carry-on luggage in tow.

The morning is especially cold this early as the sun hasn't emerged yet from behind the gloomy clouds that threaten to spill its snow content.

Her heart sinks as she spots several homeless people, bundled in blankets and cardboard boxes, lining the city streets - some digging through trash cans looking for anything to eat. In less than thirty minutes, they've managed to hand out all twelve sandwiches along with the bananas.

She also gave her remaining glove to an older person who begged if she didn't have anything warm on her that she might want to part with. It pained her to know these many people are without a warm meal and shelter.

The couple continues their journey to Bushwick, storing their luggage, and exploring the up-and-coming neighborhood.

Later, they take another bus to the North Avenue beach where (Y/N) slipped on the sheet of ice covering the cold sand.

They find the nearest bridge and cross over to Lincoln Park.

"Anything specific we're looking for, dear?" He asks as he slips the peel off his banana and takes a bite.

"I read about an art installation in the park called the _Wooden Pavillion._ I think you'd appreciate seeing that - it's situated in such a way that you can see the skyline through it."

"Hm, that sounds like something I'd enjoy," he smiles at her.

"Oh wow, how amazing is that?" He breathes as they come down the bridge and spot the pavilion.

They walk around the South Pond, aiming to get closer to the installation.

"Hold up - they're taking pictures, we don't want to be in their shot," she pulls him back and waits for the photographer to finish taking a couple's pictures.

"Hmm, it seems like this is a typical Sunday thing to do here."

"What is?" she stares in awe at the couple that is clearly busy with an engagement shoot.

"Look around," he pulls her from her trance and guides her by her shoulders. "It seems this is a popular spot for engagement and family photos."

"Oh, my. That sure is true!"

Several couples are followed by a photographer each as they set up their equipment, ready to capture beautiful moments on a cloudy day.

"Did you want a shot?" The first mentioned photographer calls to them.

"Hm? Oh, yes, please! Just of the Pavillion," (Y/N) takes her Huawei out.

"Right'o. We'll be sure to move out of the way," he says sincerely and moves his equipment to the side.

She snapped a quick few photos as she could see he was getting impatient.

_Here?_

"Well, that was a letdown," she breathes disappointedly as they make their way to their next destination.

"I have to agree, it's a piece of artwork to be enjoyed by the public. It ruins the moment when it's crawling with people who don't appreciate its beauty... But nevertheless, I still enjoyed seeing it," he slips his fingers into hers.

Since it's already late afternoon, the couple decides to head back into downtown again in search of an early dinner, this time something true to Chicago.

"I remember Lynn said that Lou Malnati's is a good place for a deep-dish pizza," she says as they walk among the Sunday crowd along the Magnificent Mile.

She spots the Ulta beauty store across the street. "Do you mind if we head into Ulta for a second, dear? I wanted to buy another bottle of that perfume I like."

"Isn't it from Georgio Armani?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, there's an Armani store right here... We could just head in here."

"Al, I'm not paying extra just because we're shopping at the flagship store," she raises her well-maintained eyebrow knowingly at him.

"You know the stuff they sell at department stores are just watered-down editions, that's why it's so cheap."

"What's wrong with that?"

"The scent doesn't last that long. Stop arguing with me, and let just go inside and see what they have. You don't need to buy anything, you can buy with your eyes," he jokes.

"Ugh, fine."

They enter the overpriced store and (Y/N) is blown away by the beauty that lies inside. The store is ultra minimalistic, decked in hardwood floors and glass shelving, merchandise displayed in the most creative ways possible.

As a fashion design professional, she's awestruck and amazed at what Italian beauty has been brought to the States.

"How may I serve you today?" An impeccably dressed older man, probably the manager, approaches the couple.

"We're looking for your perfume - _Sì_ ," Alan answers after noticing his girlfriend still entranced by the interior.

Alan knew she'd appreciate this store.

"Ah, yes. One of our favourites - right this way, please," the man leads the couple through a maze of fresh leather and fine Italian suites, all the way to the back where hundreds of Italian stilettos line the wall from floor to ceiling.

"I'll give you a moment to look around by yourselves, let me know when you're ready to purchase," he turns and heads towards the accessories section.

"Uh-uh, no way," she protests.

"What?"

"No way am I paying $270 for a 100ml bottle of perfume!"

"You're right, I'm paying it for you," he folds his arms across his chest.

"No way in hell will you do such a thing. I can get that same bottle at Mark's and Spencer's for a third of the price," she hisses under her breath.

"You haven't let me spend any money on you this weekend, let me buy it for you," he offers sincerely.

"Alan, no," she says sternly.

"I'm not taking no for an answer, doll. Pick the perfume you wanted and go wait outside if you don't want to see me pay for it."

"Al, it's way too expensive, please..."

"Oh, please, I spent that much on dinner last week Wednesday. This isn't even going to make a dent in my account."

"Just because you have the money doesn't mean you should spend it so meaningless," she says quietly.

"Darling, look," he runs his hands down her supple arms. "I work hard so that I can enjoy my life without having to think twice about paying for something. I want to buy this for you, let me do this, please..." he says softly.

She looks away from his piercing gaze, "Fiiiine," she breathes.

They make their expensive payment and after Alan insisted she spray some of it on before leaving the store, she does.

The scent is much more intense and long-lasting, making her understand why it is so expensive when you buy it from the designer themselves. The scent drives Alan insane with lust as the sweet floral tones creep up his nostrils.

Once outside in the cold again, they continue their journey to the pizzeria.

"Ah, look - another one. Oh, she looks so pretty!" (Y/N) coos as she points towards another loving couple taking photographs in front of the fountain in the middle of the plaza.

In addition to the shoots down at the _Wooden Pavillion,_ this also seems like a preferable spot for couples to get their pictures taken, as they pass the fourth wedding party.

"Four Chicago weddings in one afternoon? People must love Chicago then," Alan muses as he sees the happy smile splayed across his girlfriend's features.

"Oh, the wind keeps picking the dress up. They probably want it down for the photos..." She mutters as she keeps her eye on the bridal group while they continue walking.

"Sometimes I wish I had enough guts to go and help someone out like that, y'know?" She looks up at Alan and he gives her his famous knowing look.

"Actually, wait," she stops dead in her tracks and slips her hand from his as she walks back to the group.

"S'cuse me, would you like some help with that?"

"A-are you sure?" The maid of honor asks unsurely as she tries to keep the white material from blowing out of her grasp.

"Yes, of course! I wouldn't have offered if I didn't mean it. Al, could you hold this, please?" She slips her sling bag over her head and he takes it from her.

She gently grabs hold of the silky white fabric and lays flat on her stomach as she tries to pull the skirt section down as much as she can.

"Oh, wow. You're really, really committed to this. You didn't have to do this," the bride offers sweetly.

"Nonsense, it's your big day. Every girl deserves her photos to come out perfect."

"Try to get as close to the hem as possible, but make sure to crop it just before you see my arms," (Y/N) calls to the photographer.

"You sure sound like you've done this before," the bride says through her smile as she stills for the photographs.

"I'm a fashion designer and photographer, I've worked multiple shoots and believe me, I've had to do crazier things than this," she laughs as she tries to keep herself as flat as possible on the cold cobblestones to keep herself out of the photos.

 _Oh, dear, (Y/N). There's nothing she wouldn't do for her fellow person,_ Alan muses in awe of her determination as she lays sprawled across the snowy cobblestones of the plaza.

"Okay, that's a wrap!" The photographer calls happily.

Alan steps closer and holds his hand out to help (Y/N) up from the ground.

"Here you go."

"Thanks, love," she smiles as she slings her bag back over her head.

"Thank you once aga- Ooooh, my god, that's Alan Rickman..." the bride interrupts herself and stammers as she sees Alan standing close to the bridal party.

"Would you mind... If we took a photo together, please? To thank you for all your help," she asks (Y/N).

"Of course! I would be honoured. Do you want Alan in the shot, too?"

"He wouldn't mind?"

"No, not at all. He's really sweet," she steps closer to Alan and intertwines their hands as she asks him to join them for the photo opportunity.

After exchanging emails so that the photographer can send them the photo, Alan steers her through the crowd of people towards their planned destination.

"Ah, that must be their party-bus," she notes in passing as she sees the groom with a glass of champagne waiting on the step of the bus.

"Are you sure we're going the right way, honey?" Alan asks confused as they cross the DuSable bridge over the Chicago River.

"Wait, let me check," she pulls her glove off her right hand and navigates her phone to Google maps.

"Actually..." she looks up at their surroundings. "This thing is pointing the wrong way. We need to go back."

"Again?" He asks incredulously. "We've passed that fountain three times now."

"Yes, I'm sorry, Babe," she laughs. "It's all part of the fun, though. I told you not to let me navigate - I'm terrible at directions," she jokes.

"Given that you have a navigation system in the palm of your hand, I figured you'd be fine directing us on where to go."

"Never underestimate my abilities to screw things up," she winks at him and laces their gloved fingers together as they head into, hopefully, the right direction.

"Well, this is the Wrigley Building... But I don't see the pizza place..." She scans the buildings and looks confused down at her phone.

Alan takes her by the shoulders and turns her towards the alleyway.

"Did you mean _that_ pizza place with the bright red illuminating signage?" He asks sarcastically.

"Oh. Haha, yes. That's the place," she gives a nervous chuckle.

"We've passed this alley three times. Do you mean to tell me we missed it every single time? You're no longer in charge of directions..." They walk down the alley and up to the tinted glass doors.

"Phew, good," she breathes a sigh of relief. "That was starting to become stressful."

They step through the doors and come to a halt behind a long queue of people. The restaurant is bustling as servers scurry around with trays filled with food and drinks. The indistinct chatter is louder than the music and (Y/N) has to control her breathing in order not to have an internal freakout.

"I'm sorry, we can't take any customers at this time. We have a one-hour waiting list," the hostess calls frazzled to the couple as she tries to figure out who is next on the waiting list and calls the person out.

"S'cuse me," Alan pushes his way through the crowd of people and comes to a stop before the hostess' podium.

"Sir, you need to get back in line. We're slammed over here an-" she raises her voice over the crowd and Alan notes her slight panic at the number of people upstairs waiting to be seated.

"I have a reservation - Rickman," he cuts her off.

Her eyes search the list hurriedly and her face blushes a bright red.

"Oh, yes of course. My apologies, Mr. Rickman, I didn't notice it was you."

She leads the couple down the stairs, away from the crowd and into a quieter part of the restaurant, beautifully decorated with industrial-style hanging lights and brick walls.

"I'm sorry about the ruckus, I had no idea they would be this busy," Alan apologizes as he takes (Y/N)'s coat from her shoulders and helps her into the booth before scooting in across from her.

"Are you holding up okay?"

"I-I'm fine," she flashes a small smile and reaches for his hand across the table.

They order water and a Malnati's Chicago Classic deep dish pizza for two before they lul into a comfortable conversation.

"Oooooh my God, this tastes incredible," she moans as she takes a bite of the cheesy pizza.

"Was it worth the wait?"

"O-o-o-oh, yes, definitely!"

"Good, I'm glad you're enjoying it," he smiles happily as he sees how much she appreciates the food.

"How about some dessert for the happy couple? We have tiramisu, deep-fried ice-cream, deep dish chocolate chip pizza..." Their server offers them in his thick Chicago accent and looks at them expectantly.

"I don't want to stay out too late, Darling, it's getting pretty dark outside," she says nervously.

"The chocolate chip pizza sounds wonderful, we'll have that, thank you."

"Coming right up," the server takes their plates and scurries off into the kitchen.

(Y/N) gives Alan a knowing look.

"Will you relax? Everything's going to be okay," he smiles at her.

"No, it's not, " she counteracts. "You know I told you Chicago becomes unsafe after dark. I don't want to be out too late. We still need to take the bus home, y'know. Look at how dark it's becoming outside," she looks out the tall glass windows and notes how the city lights are starting to turn on.

"It's fine. I'll protect you, don't worry. Besides, we can always call an Uber, I don't know why you insist on taking the bus this late anyway."

"Because it's part of exploring - you can't explore the city from the inside of an Uber," she fiddles nervously with the scarf wrapped around her neck.

Alan scoots out from his booth and scoots in next to her, wrapping his one arm around her thick waist.

"Breathe. Stop worrying. You're overthinking this and you're adding unnecessary stress to yourself," he places a long kiss on her forehead and he hears her blow out a nervous breath through her nose.

"You're right, I'm sorry," she rests her head on his shoulder before the server places a pan of the sweet-smelling chocolate chip pizza in front of them with two plates to share.

After Alan takes care of the bill he helps her into her coat and steers her upstairs through the crowd and out towards the door.

He pushes hard, but the tinted glass door won't budge.

"I think it's a pull door, dear," she offers and slips her gloves on.

"No, I'm positive it was a push door."

He gives one more hard push and the door opens with an icy cold gush of wind slapping him right in the face, causing him to gasp for air.

"Jesus, now I know why they call it _The Windy Cit_ y," he pulls his wooly scarf up his neck and covers his mouth and jaw with the warm material.

"I'm sorry you had to be on the receiving end of that, but I'm also very glad it wasn't me," she chuckles. "This wind is icy."

"Oh, Alan, it's very dark. I'm not sure we should be out this late," she shuffles closer to his side and grabs hold of his arm.

"You're okay, trust me. I spotted a few uniforms walking the streets earlier. We'll be safe - besides, it's only five-o-clock," he checks his Tag Heuer wristwatch.

"Really?" She asks incredulously. "It seems like it's ten already."

They turn the corner onto Michigan Avenue and the sight before her blows her mind.

"Oh, my God..." she gasps and stills in her tracks as she looks up.

Pitch black skies serve as a backdrop to beautiful tall skyscrapers illuminated by tiny little lights that give the effects of stars.

Pure white snow still line the sidewalks before them and the large fountain has beautiful warm yellow lights illuminating the running water.

The night has come alive with the chatter of people from all cultures and backgrounds roaming the streets. Soothing jazz music can be heard coming from the street corner where a veteran-turned-street-performer plays his troubles away on a shiny saxophone.

Her heart skips a beat as giddiness and excitement fill her like a small child.

"It's magical," she breathes and blinks as her eyes fill up with small tears.

She lets go of his arm and removes her phone from her coat pocket to take a video and a few pictures of the breathtaking view.

A wide smile spreads across her face as her chocolate brown orbs take in the scenery and it fills Alan's heart with love and warmth.

She walks closer towards the fountain and looks up at the Trump Tower looming above them, snapping a picture of the intimidating building.

Suddenly a loud bang rings in her ears and thousands of illuminated red and golden sparkles can be seen in the skies above her.

"Oh, my god!" She breathes in amazement as her eyes fill with tears and her heart with excitement.

Everyone who knows (Y/N), knows she's a sucker for a good fireworks show.

The whistling and whirring continue as fireworks dazzle and shimmer against the black night sky.

_Here._

"Isn't it magical, Alan," she turns around and panics as she realizes she's lost sight of him.

"Alan?" She calls out worried.

"(Y/N)..." He calls up at her from one knee, a blue Tiffany's ring box open in his hand.

Her hands automatically cover her mouth as she stands there on the snowy cobble-stoned plaza, stunned.

"I've been a single man for a few decades now and three years ago, experiencing new places alone was often dull. This weekend you've shown me that it's okay to take wrong turns because one still reaches their planned destination. And when I look at my end destination... I see you."

"Oh, Alan," she breathes through tears.

"I can't promise you that we'll make all the right turns in life. Heaven knows I've been living my life from indecision to indecision, but as I kneel here before you I've never been surer of a decision. I've loved you for three winters now, honey, but I want them all. What do you say - me and you, just us two? (Your Full Name), would you do me the immense honour of becoming my wife and partner?"

"Y-Yes!!!" She sobs. "A million times yes!!"

He gets up from the cobblestones and wraps his arms around her waist, spinning her around as they share a loving kiss.

He takes her hand in his and slides the beautiful diamond-encrusted ring onto her ring finger. She holds it up to the dark night sky, watching as the six-carat solitaire diamond sparkles in the night light.


End file.
